At work, third or fourth cup of coffee, jittery edgy feeling. All week? She'd be over all week? I gazed out over my car lot, customers and salesmen slowly meandering between the cars. Maybe I could, could, go have dinner with Caitlin, or Snake and Spike, or my mother…I downed the rest of my coffee, and it was filled with sugar and coffee grounds. Sludge. Shook my head. No. I couldn't do that. I had to make supper for Angie and Craig, I always did. Craig could do it, sure, but he'd just make macaroni and cheese. Ashley could probably do a better job, and maybe one night I'd bail and let them do it. But not tonight. Tonight I was stuck.
Tapped my spoon against the edge of my desk. Closed my eyes and saw her face. Ashley. Big blue eyes and little pixie nose, glossy red lips, aughh!
Drove home dreading it, dreaded seeing her and dreaded myself.
"Daddy!" I staggered a bit under Angie's enthusiastic greeting, and beyond her I saw Ashley and Craig playing X box, some game with wierdly real graphics, a big city slum and guns and the bored and jaded voice of a New York city cop over it all. They were laughing and leaning into each other.
"Hey, Joey," Craig said, not even looking at me.
"Hi, Mr. Jeremiah," Ashley said, and gazed at me with her blue eyed stare.
"Hello," I said, and cringed at the formal tone of my voice.
I started supper, shake n' bake chicken and frozen peas. Julia had been the real cook, making sauces and things with Parisian names. She had a real gourmet flair.
"Angie, go wash your hands, 'kay?" She pouted but went. I started setting the table.
"I'll be right back," Ashley said, and went after Angie. Craig let the x box controller fall to the floor, jumped up, and started rummaging through drawers and cabinets.
"What are you doing?" I said, carefully taking the pan of chicken from the stove.
"Looking for something,"
"Really, Sherlock? I can see that. What?" But by the time I'd asked that he found it, two long tapered candles and silver candle holders. He set them in the middle of the table with an authoritative bang.
"Got a lighter?" he said.
"There's matches over there,"
He struck a match while I drained the peas and touched it to the wicks. A subdued yellow orange flame flickered to life.
"Romantic, right?" he said, kind of smiling, and I noticed how really young he was, and I could see in his eyes how much he liked Ashley and I vowed to be good.
"Yeah. Yeah, it is. She'll like it,"
On cue the girls came back and Angie oohed at the candlelight. Ashley smiled, not showing her teeth, and looked sideways at Craig. He ducked his head. I was invisible.
I decided I needed a drink and cracked open a bottle of wine. It was red and not quite a match for poultry, but who gave a shit? Ashley looked nearly luminescent by the light of the candles, and I found it hard not to look at her. I wanted to offer her wine, watch her lose her inhibitions, erode away her will…
"You all right, Joey?" Craig, his voice an odd mixture of sharpness and concern, and I sipped more wine, missed Julia and ached for Ashley simultaneously.
"Yeah, yep. I'm fine,"
"Okay,"
Ashley smiled at me, white teeth showing, big blue eyes trying to hypnotize me. I was falling under a spell. Maybe it was the wine.
"This chicken is real good, Mr. Jeremiah," she said. Most of his other friends called me Joey, but Ashley always said 'Mr. Jeremiah' in her soft breathy way. It twisted my insides.
"Thank you, Ashley,"